About two months ago my sister in law and I decided we really wanted chickens. We love the idea of having our own eggs, produced on our own "land", that contained the vital nutrients that most eggs are missing. We would feed said chickens a diet rich in organic foods, our own table scraps, and no soy. So our husbands rolled their eyes and started building us a chicken coop and run. Then we got chicks. And they were so cute!
See?! Little fuzz balls the kids could play with, we could hold and coddle...
Then they grew up a bit. They were creating so much dust in my house it was undheard of. (See my last post about dust, here). It was time they head outside. So off they went, into the great unknown of the fenced in chicken run in our very own backyard.
They were hesitant to come our, but in the end didn't want to go back into their little box. But they were pretty smart, and once the heat lamp turned back on inside, they were cuddled up under it, getting warm and sleeping soundly after their adventurous day.
Out they went for day two, and this time when I brought them inside they didn't get the heat lamp. Then day three they were out and slept outside, but with a heat lamp...because its still chilly at night and they don't have all their outer feathers yet. Which brings me to day four.
I walked outside after we had some spouts of rain here and there, just making sure the chickens were smart enough to go in their hen house. Of course they werent. They were huddled under the ramp to the hen house, but not in the house. Ugh. Ok, in I go, showing them the way into their new home. One, two, three, four, five. Wait. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Wheres the sixth one? I'm missing a black chick! I looked and looked and she was all the way in the corner, under the house, wet and lifeless. I panicked, got my sister in law, Angie, and proceeded to pick up the little chick. She was breathing, just barely, but when I picked her up she was limp. Eyes shut, head hung, on her death bed. We wrapped her in a microfiber towel (warmest small thing I could find!) and I placed her like a baby in my arms, right under my bosom. Warmest place I could think of for the immediate time. Angie suggested a rice pack and went to do some research. We got all warm (it was already 86 degrees inside and I was sweating...but bring on a hot rice pack!) and I dropped a few drops of water in her mouth. Holding tight, I would rub her every so often. My eldest daughter, Elli, would help, suggesting I place the towel under her wing, on the down feathers which were wet. This helped immensly.
Angie came over and told us there was information online regarding chicks getting wet then coming back to life....there was hope! We kept doing what we were doing and slowly but surely the little chick would move, or stretch her head. She started making small chirping noises without opening her mouth, then opened her eyes here and there. She was exhausted, but alive!
After about two hours of holding her close....and holding my breath....she had made a full comeback. I placed her in a box and she wobbled a bit, so I grabbed her for about twenty more minutes. Then kept her quarantined to make sure there were no other signs of illness, then placed her with her sisters at 11pm, under the warmth of the heat lamp. I still can't get the image of her lifeless body so matted by wet down and her eyes closed and head hanging. That night we brought life into something almost dead.
Go ahead, call me Dr. Jenn if you wish. My eldest is now officially Dr. Elli ;)
This is such an unexpected part of raising chickens...the fact that I feel like a mother hen to these babies, and while I tend my children daily, I now have six new little ones to watch after and care for. Our previously unnamed little miracle chicken now has a name: Angel.
Jenn
www.mydoterra.com/doterrabyjennifer
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